


Hades and Persephone

by My_Trex_has_fleas



Series: Folie A Deux [9]
Category: Poldark - All Media Types, Return to Treasure Island (TV 1996)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Murder Husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 15:49:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6616420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Trex_has_fleas/pseuds/My_Trex_has_fleas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fill for Prompt 35 for the Spring Fandom Raffle Exchange.</p><p>Greek Mythology AU: Hades and Persephone</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hades and Persephone

_You are the hole in my head_  
_You are the space in my bed_  
_You are the silence in between_  
_What I thought and what I said_

The blood runs through his fingers, slippery and metallic. When he looks up all he can see is the madness in the other, the one his whole life revolves around. Those light eyes that burn with a darkness that he never thought could exist, that was nothing but a perfect nightmare that he was trapped in. He is in thrall to all of it, to all of him. He lives for that smile, for the look of approval that signals a job well done. He shivers when that voice addresses him, tells him how beautiful he is.

He takes the knife he’s offered, cuts and makes the body beneath his hand bleed out onto the hard packed dirt floor. It moves, sluggish now after taking so much punishment earlier, the words that traverse the man’s body still weeping. He’s been divested of his eyes and tongue, a blind and dumb animal writhing on the floor. It’s exciting, it makes Ross hard and all he wants now is to rip and carve the man open.

But even as he cuts, as he takes his pleasure, he looks to the one standing over him. Jim is a vision, his compact muscled frame outlined in blood and gore. He is always too neat in their daytime life together, his shirts perfectly pressed and his hair immaculate. He smells of absurdly expensive aftershave and his fingernails are manicured. But here he is a demon, a dark power that drags Ross into this hellish version of the underworld that he’s created underneath the New York streets.

When Ross is done, he looks for confirmation that he’s been a good boy, that he’ll be rewarded for his actions.

_You are the night time fear_  
_You are the morning when it's clear_  
_When it's over you're the start_  
_You're my head, you're my heart_

His rewards come in many forms.

For Ross every day brings new things that surprise and delight him. Jim is free with gifts and affection, kind and thoughtful in a way he really shouldn’t be considering that he is actually a monster dressed up in human skin. He makes Ross laugh and holds him tightly, their frames fitting together like puzzle pieces.

In their subterranean kingdom is where Ross likes him best though. Jim has become darker, bolder since they have come together to make up their hellish partnership. He hunts with Ross now, and they take turns striking down the people they have cornered. He watches Ross cut them up, linking their blood soaked fingers and feeling the life drain out of the body underneath them. It’s glorious and savage, a brutal foreplay that they both crave now as much as they crave each other.

After that there’s nothing but the sounds that fill the tunnels, the pants and moans that signal the end of their hunt. For Ross, it’s like being reborn. He’s covered in blood and their skin slides together in a way that’s obscenely beautiful. He can feel Jim going deep, driving inside him with neither grace nor gentleness and it blocks out the light from his eyes and drags him down into the dark. When they come now it’s almost always together, each one reading the cues of the other’s body and synching in with them.

He leans back into Jim’s body, letting him take his weight. Jim’s fingers are draped around his throat, resting on his stuttering pulse. They smell of blood and Ross breathes it in, the heady iron tinge making him even harder. Jim’s mouth is on his skin, licking the streaks away that he left earlier and his teeth drag just hard enough to leave fiery trails over Ross’ shoulders. His hands and knees ache from the dirt floor beneath him, but Ross won’t stop. Instead he pushes back into every thrust and howls like an animal.

_No light, no light in your bright blue eyes_  
_I never knew daylight could be so violent_  
_A revelation in the light of day_  
_You can't choose what stays and what fades away_

They drop the body into a pit deep in the tunnels somewhere and walk back to clean up. The shower cleans away their excesses, the blood and cum and saliva washing down the sink and leaving them clean and guiltless. Jim returns to his human form, his blond hair clean and shiny and his skin smooth under Ross’ hands, the freckles standing out. He blinks at him, the fair lashes clumped together with water and Ross gets lost in the blue and the green and the grey.

Afterwards they clean up the rest of the place and pack up to go home. The sun won’t be up for a few more hours and they are both hungry. It’s a quick stop to get tacos from a fast food stand and eat them on the hood of Jim’s truck. He’ll bitch about Ross destroying his standard of living in the morning but right now he’s ravenous and Ross watches him in adoration, the flashes of sharp white teeth and completely uncharacteristic enthusiasm with which Jim is eating a small indication of the predator that lies under his skin. It’s a tiny glimpse of the unhinged ferocity that only comes out in the right circumstances.

Jim catches his eye and smiles at him, dimples in place. There are three cars of what Ross’ parents would refer to as dodgy types a few feet down from them. Their music is too loud and they look like they’re more than likely engaged in some criminal activity, but they keep their distance from the two white men in completely the wrong neighbourhood.

His dark king’s power is apparent to those of a similar nature, even if they don’t quite know what he is. Ross preens in his reflected aura and behaves like the consort he is.

 _And I'd do anything to make you stay_  
_No light, no light_  
_No light_  
_Tell me what you want me to say_

He’s like Persephone he thinks.

Before Jim he was living a half-life of sadness and desperation. He thinks a lot about that night, how Jim saved him from whatever was coming. His own knight in armour, even if it’s tarnished and blood stained. Ross thinks he prefers it like that anyway.

The romantic side of him likens Jim’s black truck to Hades’ chariot.

It carries on when they get home. Jim’s so worked up that Ross ends up hog-tied on their bed and getting fucked until the lines between pain and pleasure blur to the point where he can’t tell which is which anymore. He can’t even speak, only whimper as Jim pounds into him. Behind him Jim is cursing him in Spanish, completely lost in what they are doing and even though Ross can only catch a few words, he knows it’s filthy and that makes it even better.

Afterwards Jim cleans him up and cuddles him until he goes to sleep and Ross knows that there’s no-one in the world who could love him as well as Jim does. They sleep curled up together, legs tangled and fingers loosely linked. It’s not their normal position, but on nights like this they drift into each other’s space without even knowing they’re doing it. In the morning Jim leaves him to sleep in and when Ross finally awakens it’s to Jim bringing him breakfast in bed. He lies and lets himself be cossetted, basking in Jim’s love which warms him all the way to the tips of his toes.

There’s a pomegranate on the plate, the seeds spilling across the white china like blood. Ross remembers the myth and eats the seeds one by one, counting off the time he’ll have with Jim. Jim watches him, his sea eyes unwavering.

He knows.

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics from No Light No Light by Florence and The Machine.


End file.
